


Suspended

by burymeonpluto



Series: Descent [1]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dysfunctional Relationships, M/M, One Setting Oneshot, Past Suicidal Thoughts, Rarepair, Trapped In Elevator, mentions of abuse, past relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 17:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17882021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burymeonpluto/pseuds/burymeonpluto
Summary: The only thing more awkward than riding an elevator with your dysfunctional, high school ex is being stuck in an elevator with your dysfunctional, high school ex.Never mind the fact that you're still not over it.





	Suspended

  
  


The door opens and he's standing there. Their eyes meet.

Riku could never forget those eyes.

Everything halts.

Those bright, gold eyes. The messiest black hair. Soft lips and nervous tongue... Everything comes rushing back. The wild storm of his teenage years.

Riku suddenly remembers how he tastes. The feeling of old scars beneath his fingers. The amount of space needed between his arms and his chest for him to fit there perfectly like an angry puzzle piece. How much strength he needs to lift him up and throw him onto the bed while he cackles about how silly and grandiose that is. Long nights of hushed love in Riku's bedroom, as to not wake his parents. Sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet up by the docks and lean and laugh until the sun barely crept above the horizon, and they would have to rush back home before anyone realized they were gone. They weren't always successful. New scars would appear on pale skin like phantoms.

The crazy arguments. The bliss. How it all fell apart. He remembers it all at once. He can't speak.

Vanitas steps onto the elevator after a clear moment of hesitation. He hits the button for the ground floor—needlessly, as Riku had already pressed it—and stands near the wall without a word. The chamber begins its descent.

This can’t be right. This can’t be all there is. But Riku still can’t get his voice to form. Vanitas is standing there motionless. He’s not even fidgeting. No tapping of his shoes or drumming of his fingers. That’s… odd, actually. Vanitas was always made of rhythm. He found the patterns in everything. The music in the chaos. He would thoughtlessly drum on the table in even dead silence.

But now, he’s only holding onto his arms. Riku watches his fingers dig into the sleeve. The mark of Vanitas’s unease.

No. This is all wrong.

“Vanitas?” Riku chances. Luckily, his voice is steadier than he feels.

The other boy barely twitches. He scoffs lightly. It’s totally fake. “I thought that was you.” But that’s all he does. He doesn’t turn around, or even glance over his shoulder. The numbers above the door continue to count down.

Riku rolls his eyes. "We dated for three years and you won't even look at me."

Another scoff. "He says, while not looking at me, either."

He's got him there. Riku glances over, and their eyes meet again. Vanitas puts on a stiff, knowing smirk. His awkward teasing face. "Smartass," Riku mutters.

"Like I forgot what you look like," he sneers.

He hasn’t changed. That smile is almost enough to make Riku lightheaded and stupid. A rush he hasn’t felt since he was seventeen.

And then the elevator stops. Not with a loud bang and flashing lights like in the movies, but a simple, sudden stop. A mechanical failure, maybe? They’re somewhere in-between floors two and three.

“What the fuck?” Vanitas says to the ceiling. He and Riku exchange another glance. The latter shrugs, while the former goes to pry the doors open. No good. There’s only the wall of the elevator shaft. They’re stuck.

It only takes a moment to call for help, both with the button on the elevator panel and Riku’s cellphone. The problem is being investigated, so now all they can do is wait it out.

Riku drops his phone back into his pocket. Vanitas seems to be very interested in the pattern on the linoleum floor. His jaw is clenched so tightly, lips almost pouting. It’s not that he doesn’t have anything to say, but he’s still trying to figure out _what_ to say. The silence grows taut and unbearable. Riku doesn’t know whether to cut it now or wait for it to explode on its own.

He folds his arms over his chest. Wait, no, that’s too defensive. Maybe he should—

Why is he thinking so hard about this?

“So, now what?” Riku sighs, finally deciding to break the tension himself.

A clear ripple of recognition passes through Vanitas’s face. Riku’s question pulled him back to reality so fast that he physically jerked. “Hell if I know.”

What a productive answer. Riku resists the urge to roll his eyes again. “It’s been a long time.”

“Five years,” Vanitas says, as if Riku needs reminding. As if he’d forgotten the emptiness of his last year of high school, after Vanitas and his brother Ventus disappeared without any discernable trace.

And their last interaction was anything but friendly. It only made matters worse, but Riku was forced to put it behind him. He was forced to move on the best he could.

Vanitas turns and leans back against the wall, scanning Riku up and down. He’s trying to find the differences. The things that have changed over their years apart. The discrepancies in his memory. "You still allergic to bananas?” he suddenly asks. What a place to start.

“You still have that sick scar on your chest?" Riku counters.

His hand instinctively covers the spot. Well, part of it. Under his shirt, Riku knows the scar is long and jagged and divides his chest from collarbones to ribs. He still remembers the feeling of the discoloured skin beneath his fingertips. His lips. It’s just one scar of many. Vanitas’s face crunches up. "What do you think?"

Riku frowns. That’s not the expression he wanted. “You can't really grow out of either of them, Van."

"Don't I know it."

Another dead end, huh? Their conversations aren’t supposed to be so difficult. They’re supposed to flow like they used to. They’re supposed to be easy and effortless.

Vanitas watches him carefully. "You finally cut your hair.”

And Riku’s hand automatically goes up, toying with the shortest, flipped up sections in the back. "Yeah. It's been short for a few years now."

"That's too bad," he sighs. Is that disappointment? "I liked your long hair."

"Really?"

"Easier to pull."

Riku ignores the heat crawling over his face. "Wow."

And Vanitas bursts out laughing. His laugh still has the same pattern, explosive and sudden before it fades away. There were times, years ago, when they'd be completely in sync, and Riku could match that laugh beat, cadence, and timbre. Without even meaning to. Vanitas would always call it creepy, even though his face betrayed him. He didn't really think that. He fucking loved it.

Back then, Riku would do whatever he could to spur that laugh. A snide comment. A stupid joke. Anything. And Vanitas would laugh through his scars and through his pain and everything would seem alright for a little while.

He remembers how Vanitas would sometimes punch him instead of laugh. Usually because they were sneaking around and needed to be quiet, but Riku would always push it. It made things more interesting. Or how Riku would open his window so silently, and so carefully, only for Vanitas to fall through it with less grace than a sinking ship and they would both die laughing in the dead of the night. Or how Vanitas would lean naked out of the same window to smoke half a cigarette while Riku was still trying to catch his breath. How the smell of smoke would sometimes linger, or reach his parents, and they'd be caught and in trouble again. How many times had his parents threatened to kick him out? He stopped counting after freshman year. But it didn't take much to break the latch on his bedroom window just in case they tried to lock him out. Which they did. Plenty of times.

The sleepless nights. The couches they'd crash on in desperation. The fences they'd jump and windows they'd climb through. High school was a wild ride. At least, it was until their relationship fell apart, and Vanitas disappeared before either of them could try to pick up the pieces.

The laughter settles, and the elevator turns quiet. Images of the past still burn fresh in Riku’s mind. "It’s weird… after all the fights, and everything else, I'd forgotten how… crazy we were about each other." Vanitas gives him a look. There’s no way he’s skeptical about that. He’s putting on a front. "We were insane, right? You would sneak out of _your_ second-storey window to sneak into _my_ second-storey window."

He scoffs. "I cut my hand climbing that stupid trellis every time. Your mother's damn roses…"

"Hey, it was no easier going out," he laughs. "And we would both sneak out at two in the morning just to sit on the docks..."

"With a bottle of cheap liquor I pulled from Xehanorts's stash," he smirks, still refusing to call his abusive grandfather by anything but his name. "We'd stay there all night..." Then he shuts his eyes, as if he can still see it. Still feel the salty breeze and see those distant stars. He breathes long and slow. "I could go back there."

"Yeah." Wouldn't that be nice?

"Remember when we were making out on the docks?"

Riku starts laughing. "And we fell into the water?"

"I thought I was gonna drown I was laughing so hard," he cackles.

"You're also a pretty weak swimmer."

Vanitas only flips him off, but doesn't stop laughing.

Neither does Riku. They really were insane back then. Crazy kids who only had each other—and thought that they only needed each other. Once the moment passes, and the laughter dies down, he finally feels comfortable enough to ask: "Van, can I ask you... what happened?" There’s no response. "Why you vanished?"

Vanitas stares intently at the floor, chewing on his bottom lip. For a moment, Riku thinks he’s not going to get an answer. "You don't know?"

"I assumed you were taken in... or ran off."

"We..." then he stops. He shakes his head, like he still can’t believe it. "It came out of fucking nowhere. This guy Eraqus just showed up one day and took us away. He wasn't even an official, just... an old classmate of Xehanort's. Ventus had made friends with the guy's niece. Aqua. She got the sob story out of him and everything just... happened. We were gone."

So it was sudden for them too, huh? Riku is surprised at how relieved he feels.

“It wasn’t long after our fight.”

“Which one?” he poorly deflects. Of course he knows which fight. It was the breaking point—the only argument that gnawed an actual pit of dread in Riku’s stomach once it was over.

Vanitas rolls his eyes. “Fair enough.” He accepts the deflection anyway. “We were always fighting.”

That feels like too strong of a word. “More like getting on each other’s nerves,” he decides.

“How else were we gonna pass the time?” he grins.

Ugh. That dark, cheeky grin. The abrasive facade. Riku has to fight the unbearable urge to reach over and kiss that stupid smirk off of his face.

“Honestly,” Vanitas chuckles like he doesn’t notice the warzone behind Riku’s eyes, “I would pick fights with you on purpose. I loved making you mad.”

He’s not even surprised. “I know I shouldn’t ask, but… why?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “It was fun? And the way you’d glare at me always turned me on.”

Riku sighs to the floor. “That explains everything.”

“You should be impressed.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, because pissing you off wasn’t exactly _easy_ ,” he says. “You were always so cool and calm. I only knew which buttons to press because I’d been doing it for so long.”

Well, when he puts it like that, Riku is almost impressed. “So, you played me like a violin, huh?”

“You’re damn right,” he grins.

But Riku already knew that. Vanitas’s instigating wasn’t exactly subtle. It was obvious when he was serious and when he was just being a nuisance. Even so, they were both so volatile back then. The anger and frustration were very real at the time, no matter the intention. Riku watches the smile fade from Vantias’s face and wonders if he ever got the stability he deserved. That was something fifteen-year-old Riku couldn’t offer him in a million years. Hell, he couldn’t even give that to himself.

Several memories appear at once. They’re sharp and loud. All the arguments. The full-on fights. They were anything but playful. Harsh words drilled through phone speakers like needles. Riku being unable to speak for two days from all the shouting, but still refusing to back down. Tears of fury falling down Vanitas’s face as something Riku said tears him apart. The anguish that crashed down on him every time Vanitas would slam the door shut, hastily slip back through the window, or storm off down the sidewalk. Again and again and _again_. Together. Apart. Together once more. The three-year span of their relationship was riddled with holes.

So much for stability.

“Did you ever… date anyone else? After you left?”

Vanitas coughs. “And drag someone else into this trainwreck of a life? Are you stupid?”

Riku honestly doesn’t know how to feel about that answer.

“Besides,” he continues at a murmur, “there was no time for that kind of bullshit, anyway.” Vanitas always had too much going on to worry about things like that. Far too much. “What about you?”

Does he sound afraid of the answer, or is Riku simply wishing that he does? “Not really.” A half-truth. “I tried, a few times, but… nothing ever turned too serious. It wasn’t worth dragging out.”

“Oh, did we drag it out.”

“We left its corpse bleeding in the street.”

“How poetic.”

“Not really. I thought it was pretty ugly,” Riku sighs, staring at some spot on the floor for the umpteenth time. “There was something about the way your phone hit the ground… I remember thinking that it was all over.”

Vanitas tries to scoff, but it’s only a hum. “How many times had you thought that before?”

“Not until that moment. I’d thought that I’d had enough plenty of times, but I’d never thought that it was over. Not until then.” It’s true. It was their first huge fallout. It was something cataclysmic. The argument in the car that culminated in Vanitas smashing his cellphone onto the pavement and storming off. Riku drove the streets aimlessly for a while after that, not knowing where to go or what to do. His stupid pride kept him from looking for Vanitas until hours later, and by that point there was no telling where he was. Riku had no means of contacting him, either. It was already dark when Riku finally found him, but by then, there was no room to talk anymore.

And now, Vanitas can’t even pretend to have his bravado as he remembers it. His shoulders shrink with his voice, and Riku almost reaches for him. "I shattered everything with that phone. It was too much for me. I had a breakdown, and you... couldn't handle it. You couldn't deal with my bullshit anymore."

"I think I was on the verge of a breakdown too, by that point,” he admits, taking the urge to reach for Vanitas and raking a hand back through his hair instead. “The friction had finally gotten to us..."

Vanitas’s hands creak over the rail in an impossibly tight grip. He’s staring directly into the overhead lights with unfocused eyes. "And then I went to the fishing pier and almost jumped off."

Wait—what? Riku leans up. Did he hear that right?

His expression doesn’t change at all. "I stood on the railing and let the wind tear at me. At that point, no one would've missed me. But... I couldn't do it." It’s nothing but a whisper. His gaze falls to the floor. "Even back then, I knew... I was the problem."

"We were both problems, Van."

"And I was the biggest one, don't fucking lie to me,” he snaps. “I was broken and unstable. I could barely function. And I knew that, but I couldn't do anything about it while I was still trapped in that house with that _bastard_. So I went to the pier. It was my only way out." Some sort of smile slices his face. It burns like acid. "But, you know, I kept thinking: if I give up here... how will I ever put myself together to be good enough for him?"

"Him?" he echoes.

"For you." His smile transforms. It’s almost soft. But it turns bitter again, and Vanitas drags a hand down his face. "Our timing was all wrong."

All of this… it’s so much to take in. It’s like an out-of-body experience. Riku is watching it all from afar. It’s not even him speaking anymore. "Even so, I would've taken you back, if you would've let me."

His laugh is harsh. "I remember. You tried to stitch it up while I was walking back that _same day_. But I couldn't drag you down with me. It was just going to fall apart again. How many times had we broken up and gotten back together already?"

"Too many times. I was uselessly crazy about you."

"It was exhausting. I just needed some time." He shakes his head again. His voice is so quiet. "Never thought I'd get so much of it, though."

Riku never imagined it would go like this either. Truthfully, he’d always thought they’d flounder together forever. But Riku was never that big on change in the first place. "Has it really been five years?"

"We're not dumb teenagers anymore."

"That's... true,” Riku admits. A newfound hope flares in his chest. Maybe— "Those fucked up environments don't control us anymore. We could… We could start over."

Vanitas can't stop himself from laughing. "You can't be serious."

"Don't you remember? We were broken and dysfunctional, but when it was good, it was _really_ _good_." Vanitas doesn’t argue against that. Riku inches closer. "Before the world broke us. Before we tried to shoulder everything ourselves. I think— I always thought— we _worked_." Gold eyes merely blink at him. He’s still not _saying_ _anything_. "After you and Ven were taken out of there, I looked all over for you, but it was no use."

Finally, he nervously clears his throat. "Yeah, they wiped the trail, in case Xehanort ever tried to find us… But that bastard never cared about us. The worst part of it was that nothing he did was out of malice. It was indifference." His lips curl into a snarl. "When Eraqus came for us, the old man didn't even get out of his chair."

Riku studies his face, searching for any sort of tell or hint that Vanitas understands his feelings. That he’s also still wallowing in something left unresolved. That he wants this just as badly. Riku manages to keep his voice level as he tries to meet those eyes. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"Yeah…"

"I haven't felt like that since then, ya know. No matter how hard I tried, I was never that useless again." Uselessly crazy. Uselessly obsessed. Uselessly in love.

Vanitas snorts. "You want to be useless?"

"There's something liberating about it,” he shrugs.

"I guess so."

"I've been chasing that ghost for five years…" Still, Vanitas says nothing. Does he really not see what Riku is insinuating? "I wonder if I can finally get it back."

There. Vanitas’s eyes cut towards him. He looks skeptical. Apprehensive. "What are you suggesting?” Finally.

"You already know,” Riku smirks.

"Yeah. Only you would ever say something so stupid." Maybe so. But when Riku doesn’t answer him outright, Vanitas’s mouth drops open. "Are you for real?"

"We've grown up a lot since then. Wouldn't you say? Are you still the same?"

"Of course not, idiot."

"That's what I mean. I think we deserve a real chance. Because back then, we hardly had a fake one." Vanitas looks like he’s about to say something, but stops short. He swallows it back, lips pressed tightly together. Riku laughs beneath his breath. "You can't hide that look from me, Van." Which makes Vanitas twitch. "What are you thinking?"

He slowly wets his lips. That same nervous tick. "It won't be the same."

"Great. Because that's not what I want." No answer. Riku moves closer, hand reaching out for that familiar shoulder. "Come on, Van…"

And then Vanitas swats his hand away. That glare is wild and heated. "Take off those fucking rose-coloured glasses of yours for a second, moron. There's no way everything was as good as you remember. You're just ignoring the bad shit."

"Yeah, right,” he scoffs. “How could I look fondly back at _that_ part of my life?"

"Then it's the circumstances. We were only so good because everything around us was shit. We just-so-happened to be less shitty than everything else."

"Do you honestly believe that?"

His mouth snaps shut. Caught. Riku could laugh. Vanitas should know by now that lying is useless. He nervously licks his lips again. "I just think it's kinda fucked up that the highlight of my high school days is getting into trouble with you all the time."

"We did more than that," he laughs.

"Yeah, we fought a lot too."

"Over stupid shit,” he presses. "And we never got the chance to end things properly, either. Everything exploded and then you disappeared."

"I had no control over that. I had no control over anything," Vanitas murmurs.

"So, even if it all falls apart again, at least it'll be... a proper ending." That sounds nice. Whole. Finished. It’s no wonder Riku was never able to get over everything that happened, because it was never technically _over_ at all. It was simply broken off, with no clear, definitive _ending_. And honestly, they deserve that much. Riku takes another chance, and reaches for Vanitas’s shoulder. He makes it. "What have we got to lose?"

He lowers his head. Riku can’t see his face through the mess of spiky black hair. "You're such an idiot."

"Van…"

“You’re the biggest idiot alive,” he says, barely a whisper. He steps a little closer, hesitates, and then comes closer still. His fingers curl into the hem of Riku’s shirt. Riku can smell his shampoo, clean and musky and something so close to familiar that it has ghosts dancing up from the grave of his teenage years. But he can’t touch them. Can’t quite place it. Vanitas lays his head against his collarbones and sighs, hot breath trailing down Riku’s chest. “Luckily for you, I’m also an idiot. A stupid, desperate fool.”

His arms wrap firmly around that familiar shape. Around edges that give and morph in all the right places like they were made for only him. “I prefer to be called a ‘nostalgic fool,’ thank you,” he chuckles. “Sounds classier.”

“Please,” Vanitas scoffs against his chest. “There’s nothing classy about us.”

“We’re not classy; we’re classic.”

He bursts out laughing again. “I can’t believe you just said that with a straight face,” he gasps. “You’re still such a fucking dork.”

“Hey—” Warm hands slip past his jawline and into his hair, stealing his voice away. Vanitas holds him there, searching his face for something. Riku has no idea what he could be looking for.

But those gold eyes. Freckles splattered through them like constellations. How many hours has Riku wasted staring into them? How long has it been now? He can’t look away. Vanitas’s face remains subdued. His smile is vague, as noticeable as the gentle curve of the horizon, but clearly there. He’s not ecstatic or upset. Maybe just… content. Or, that could be Riku wishing again. Projecting.

“Are you gonna do it or not?” Riku blurts through his grin. He can’t take it anymore.

Vanitas smirks like he was waiting for that invitation. But he never needed one in the first place. Why start now? He closes the distance between their lips not a second later. The kiss is warm and firm as they both try to pull the other in their respective directions. Like they could tear each other in half and be complete that way.

Riku gasps for breath and dives back in. Vanitas molds against him like a shadow. And then the floor shifts under their feet as the elevator finally jolts back to life. They both stop in their tracks to watch the LED numbers resume their countdown.

“Damn,” Vanitas mutters. “Just when we needed the privacy.”

Riku’s laughter is soft. “You mean, besides the security cameras?”

“They were the best part,” he says, slipping his hands into Riku’s back pockets and placing a single, quick kiss against his smile. “We could’ve put on one hell of a show.”

He can’t stop his grin. There’s one storey left in their descent. “We can still do that.”

Vanitas catches on immediately. Of course he does. They’ve been on the same frequency since they were fourteen. Another smirk darkens his face. “For old time’s sake.” His fingers climb up Riku’s back as he threads their legs and lips together. Closer, until they’re tangled into an inseparable knot. Riku pulls him in, and hands slide beneath Vanitas’s shirt to trace the shapes of familiar scars. The crescent on his side. The splatter on his shoulder blade like flower petals. If only he could get to that sharp, ghastly line that mars Vanitas’s chest. They’re pressing in too close for that. If only—

The elevator doors slide open and daylight overpowers the artificial. Outside, a woman gasps.

Riku and Vanitas grin against each other. It’s thrilling. It always has been. It really is the best part.

Maybe they haven’t changed at all.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Ship Status: In canon, they have never met… but I. Don’t. Care.
> 
> (This rarepair breathes life into my cold body, okay.)
> 
> I had to finish this to sate my hunger for this ship. I just had to. And I’ll probably be back to this AU in the future to sate that hunger once again. Rarepair content be like that sometimes. And now that I’ve re-read this several times to edit it I’m not sure if I’m even happy with it? Eh, whatever.
> 
> Anyway, this oneshot was inspired by ‘Young’ by The Chainsmokers thank you and goodbyeee~
> 
> @VaniVeniVici for more lamentations.


End file.
